


Focus

by Olorisstra



Series: Hydrospanner in the works [4]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Child Soldiers, Mental Conditioning, emotional conditioning, endangering of a child, eugenetics philosophies, implied high level of violence, war training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:28:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7044676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olorisstra/pseuds/Olorisstra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The geneticists wait and plan, carefully taking advantage of the normal happenings of their facility to set the stage for their next test.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Focus

The genetists wait and plan, carefully taking advantage of the normal happenings of their facility to set the stage for their next test, especially now that Skirata is busy with his Nulls and RCs.

They monitor and register the interactions of CL-OWK-24 with the clones, both those who show an aptitude to command and those who don’t. All of their options are given a fair presentation during the meetings they hold, all of the ideas weighted and considered for what results they may net.

When they talk it is in terms of neuroscans, brainwaves, resonance reaction, potential risk to the facility, evaluation of how well training upholds in the face of sudden stress. There is no consideration given to the continued health or, in some cases, even the survival or CL-OWK-24.

Why should they?

They have two more clones of the same age, who are weekly implanted with the daily back-ups CL-OWK-24 makes for them, and five more in the accelerate growth tube. They are expendable, only worthwhile until the production line for the troopers marches on.

The Kaminoas reject feelings, though they are very much not above manipulating those of their creations.

* * *

 _That sounds a lot like they are about to kriff over Tee Four_ , Six O'Clock whispers, in the warmth of their bond.

 

 _We have known for a while they were going to_ , Thrive points out, his voice softer than that of his twin. 

The quintuplets like it better, it feels nicer in their minds, though they know that Thrive is the one the Kaminoans should trust less. They are just the physical equivalent of six year standards, ten years younger than the twins and Tee Four, but they have already grown accustomed to the back and forth of their older brothers and they know that for all of Six O'Clock bluster, it is Thrive’s quiet that has to be watched. 

Soon they will be able to reach back, the quintuplets believe, their minds huddling closer in comfort, much more closely bonded to one another than the twin’s minds are.

They are lucky that the Kaminoans cannot sense or chart these things, they know. The room is full of the psychic impression of their brothers who strived and failed to perform, of those who went too young to leave more than fleeting ghosts of memories.

It would be a very scary room, if it wasn’t for the twins always chattering back and forth.

 _We need to do something about it_ , Six O'Clock says, his voice scowling for him, even as his face remains quiet and peaceful to all of the techs in the room.

 _You need to calm down, before your brainwave spikes again_ , Thrive reminds him, reaching out with his own calm to quiet his twin’s emotions.

Six O'Clock isn’t pleased but he does try to calm down, accepting Thrive’s help to soothe his own unruly emotions. The techs always make a fuss if their brainwaves spike and if it was to happen one time too many, there is no doubt that he would be declared defective and then everything would go very bad, very fast, because Thrive wouldn’t let them do that anymore than Six O'Clock would cooperate with them.

 _Of course we will do something about it_ , Thrive adds, when Six O'Clock’s mind has quieted down once more. _We have the Force and a facility full of trooper brothers who have become rather attached to Tee Four. Between him, us and them we will manage to get everyone out alive._

Six O'Clock likes the plan and he sends over an image of Thrive in a Jedi Knight’s robes and cloak, like the ones Tee Four shared during his last lesson when the bond between the three of them could be open without risk of them being caught.

Thrive sends it back without the billowing cloak, his hair trimmed so close to his head that they are almost shaved on the sides and only slightly longer on top, a necklace of beads hanging wrapped around his right hand and wrist, one for each of the brothers they lost.

 _You are always so serious_ , Six O'Clock sighs.

 _And you are so dramatic_ , Thrive counters and they share a smile that is in their minds alone.

The quintuplets giggle, thinking of Tee Four’s rather more relaxed and playful image next to Six O'Clock’s imposing one and Thrive’s reserved own.

Their brothers can all be so silly.

* * *

The air feels heavy around Rex, in a way that is not cloying or suffocating but that pricks at his every sense, making him want to bristle and check both his weapons and his brothers all over, even though they have no more time for it.  
The simulation is starting in fifty-five seconds.

 

It’s one of the sims that they run for the Kaminoans, not for Jango or any of their other instructors, and it’s particularly important for these to go well. They are not only a test of their abilities, something in which Rex has absolute faith, but also a chance for them to show that they can hold up under pressure and be the unit they are supposed to be, no matter what conditions they are put under.

 

It’s just another, run-of-the-mill simulation, they have a run at least five hundred more not all that different from this one, as far as he know. They have this, he knows they have this.

 

So why does he feel like he’s about to be kriffed over in the worst possible way?

 

He stands still, at the ready, willing his body not to fidget even when he feels his head turning without him consciously moving it, his eyes leaving his comrades to take a better look at the other side of the room.

He is not sure why he does it, except for a general feeling that it’s important for him to go along with this, but as soon as he sees what’s there he stops caring about the whys and he starts concentrating on the what-the-kriffs.

T4 has just entered the simulation area, right in the middle of where the enemy camp is supposed to be, and is in the process of sitting down, flanked on each side by a droid. 

He is wearing traditional Jedi Padawan garb and what looks like a Padawan braid has been added to his short hair. There are no weapons on him that Rex can see, no lightsaber for sure, and his wrists are weighted down in restraints.

It makes Rex’s blood boil to see the boy put there in what looks to be like a prisoner role. He has a hard time not to break ranks and just start forward, heading for the boy that has made his physicals all that much nicer. His hands tightens around his weapon and he has to take a steadying breath to ground himself, his whole world reducing itself until he feels like he’s looking down a tunnel and the only thing on the other side is T4.

It’s only when the first quiet mutter of ‘What the kriff’ runs through the comms, that it hits him that the Kaminoans might just be after that exact reaction.

The kriffing bastards are riling them up, letting them see their Jedi boy in danger, trying to weed out those who can keep control and those who can’t or maybe just checking to see what it would do to them to see a Jedi in that kind of position or, worse, a Padawan, younger and more inexperienced than any Jedi they would serve with and under.

Rex can feel his heart hammering in his chest, his adrenaline spiking more than he ever thought it could, the voices from his company growing distant, as the energy between him and his brothers start building up, working them towards the kind of frenzied state he vaguely remembers having been taught they are supposed to never go close to.

He doesn’t give a kriffing shit about that right now.

All he gives a shit about are the two droids flanking T4 and the rifles in their scrawny robotic arms, the ones that look heavy enough and detailed enough to be real.

“Your mission has changed.” A Kaminoan-accented voice says, slicing through everything that Rex is trying so hard to clamp down and making his spine snap straighter than it was already. “The Padawan of your General has been captured and Torrent Company has been dispatched to recover him, unharmed if at all possible.”

There’s a roar in Rex’s ears, a scream of senseless fury trying to claw it’s way out of his throat and that’s _before_ he sees a plate slides back behind T4 to let a Neimodian fucker be lifted above the ground, with what looks like a tray of _fucking_ torture instruments standing beside him.

“You have two minutes to cross the distance between you and the enemy camp and recover the boy. Once the two minutes end, the torture will begin.” The Kaminoan-accented voice informs them and suddenly they are plunged in the darkness of a forest, trees surrounding them and hiding the enemy camp from sight.

Rex can’t see T4 anymore.

_Rex can’t see T4 anymore._

A switch flips itself in Rex’s mind and his world descends down into cool, calm ice. There is space for nothing in his mind but the objective, no hesitation or doubt barring his way. There is only the mission. There is only clarity. 

There is only T4 and the threat of torture hanging over the boy’s head.

* * *

 _Bantha poodoo_ , Six O'Clock whispers.

Thrive is too stunned to comment.

* * *

When their officers start snarling out their orders, Rex and his brothers move like one.

* * *

“You should run now, before the troopers get to you.” Tee Four suggests to the trembling Neimodian the Kaminoans bought for this exercise.

Two minutes are far too generous a time.

* * *

 _Shit_ , Six O'Clock whispers.

Thrive cannot find words to comment.

* * *

The Neimodian runs, but from the sounds of fire outside the simulated tent, he didn’t go far at all.

Tee Four isn’t surprised.

The other sentient waited one minute and three seconds too long.

He should have run when Tee Four told him to.


End file.
